


If You Forget Me

by the_boy_with_titan_blood



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:10:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_boy_with_titan_blood/pseuds/the_boy_with_titan_blood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If suddenly,<br/>you forget me<br/>do not look for me,<br/>for I shall already have forgotten you.<br/>-Pablo Neruda</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Forget Me

"Is this what It was like for you? No, John, please don't leave."

 

"Would you please try to keep up?" John rolled his eyes at Sherlock's controlling words. He seemed to have an unlimited amount of attitude, so much in fact that John always seemed to have an underlying urge to strangle his flatmate. He wouldn't though, no use in removing the worlds only consulting detective from the world.  
"What are we even trying to do?" John waddled behind Sherlock, who walked at a considerably faster pace.  
"This killer seems keen to a particular alley way, as we found traces of blood from two of his victims there. And if my calculations are correct, he should strike again tonight. If we get there fast enough, we can catch him red-handed." John had no idea how Sherlock came to this conclusion, but he was seldom wrong. So he trailed behind, wondering what he was getting himself into. Anything that had to do with Sherlock was sure to be memorable.  
They approached an alleyway next to a popular pub. Sherlock walked a few paces before coming to what he found an adequate hiding spot. He promptly sat down, John finding a spot beside him.  
"Now what?" John asked, shifting into a more comfortable position.  
Sherlock never took his eyes off the pubs back door. "Now we wait."  
Sure enough, a man soon walked out the back door with his arms around a blonde girls waist. He pressed her up against the pub wall and began to kiss her roughly. She seemed more than willing, but she wouldn't have been had she opened her eyes and saw the knife in his hand.  
Sherlock look at John, his eyes glimmering with mischief. "That's him." He leaped up and ran to the man, his trench coat flapping behind his. John ran after him, worried about what rash decision his best friend was going to make.  
Sherlock roughly grabbed the man by the collar. His knife fell to the ground with a loud clash. The woman screamed and backed away when she saw the object his the floor.   
Suddenly-almost too fast for John to comprehend- Sherlock was on the ground clutching his stomach, and the killer was running. Impulsively, John began to run after the man, not entirely sure of what he would do if he caught him.  
BANG. BANG. BANG. John felt searing pain in his stomach and leg. He collapsed to the ground. Where did the gun even come from, John wondered, before his head smashed the floor.

Sherlock found himself in a position he never imagined he would be in- kneeling on the ground, and covered in his best friends blood.  
"John!" He screamed at the dying man, with tears rushing down his face. "You can't leave! I need you!" Sherlock thought back to two years ago when he convinced John he was dead.  
"Is this what it felt like to you John? John I am so sorry." Sherlock cried harder. "I called the ambulance. You'll be okay." He blubbered. His stomach twisted into a knot that would never be undone. Blood shot from Johns mouth.   
"Is this what it was like for you? No, John please don't leave." Sherlock repeated.  
John's vision darkened, he could only see the silhouette of Sherlock's head.  
His last breath slipped out, but not before he heard the last words he would ever hear. "John, please don't leave. I love you."


End file.
